


What spring does with the cherry trees.

by ladyervadoce



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Victorian, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Non-Linear Narrative, Slow Burn, as slow as I can manage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-08-13 12:17:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20174128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyervadoce/pseuds/ladyervadoce
Summary: Brienne is the youngest child of The Evenstar, Prince Selwyn, ruler of the Principality of Tarth. After she inherits her late mother's family estate and title, she's sent to King's Landing to be warded at the household of Lord Lannister, the Duke of Casterly Rock and Prime Minister.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by Neruda's love poem XIV, "Everyday you play"
> 
> This AU is Victorian-ish, but set in Westeros. In this AU, the lords and ladies do have real world titles (as baron, count, etc.) and Westeros is an quasi-parliamentary monarchy, so the hand of the kings has been replaced by the prime minister. In this AU, there are semi-independent principalities that are sworn to the mainland kingdom (in a way somewhat similar to Dorne in the books). That being said, Tarth is a Monaco-esque principality and Galladon is still alive, so Brienne is a princess by birth, but she's not the heiress to the Evenstar title. This AU is a work in progress and although I have an overall outline, a lot of universe building and intrigue is yet to be written. 
> 
> Mind that this is an Victorian-ish Era AU, so please understand that some notions might sound quite outdated, sexist or overall awful. 
> 
> It is my first multi-chaptered fic EVER and my fist J/B. Actually, I haven't written fic since I was maybe 13yo, so yeah. 
> 
> I don't have a beta yet, so all mistakes are 100% mine and any corrections/suggestions/feedback is greatly appreciated. I hope you guys like it!

****

Selwyn Tarth stood speechless. _He looks sad, not enraged - _Jaime thought - _How would I feel if a man told me he violated my daughter? _After a long pause, the prince spoke calmly and his deep, solemn voice sent chills through the younger man’s spine.

\- I would have never thought you capable of such ignominy, Lannister. How could you? 

\- Selwyn - Lord Tywin intervened - There’s no harm done. They shall be wed. Despite his _career _and his physical… limitations, Jaime is my heir and a knight in his own right. He is older, yes, but not too old to sire children. Besides, all the arrangements have been made to avoid scandal.

\- I’ve never took you for a craven. I see you need your father to come to your defence. You are not a knight, you are but a spoiled, rotten _boy. _Tywin, you are like a brother to me, but what your son did is unforgivable. 

The guilt was a heavy burden upon Jaime’s shoulders. He deserved each and every offence. He was no good, not good enough for her. After so many years of being a bachelor, the good society barely remembered he was still one of the most eligible single men amongst the highborn. When Brienne came to the Crownlands to be fostered after she unexpectedly inherited the title of Baroness of Rosby, the serene Prince of Tarth wanted her to learn with Tywin the art of leading and the ways of court and, of course, the ruler of the Sapphire Isle hoped Brienne could maybe find a suitable match. Certainly being shipped off to court, being deflowered by Jaime and now thrown into a convenience marriage were not on Princess Brienne’s plans either.

Jaime woke up from his trance, and the words escaped from his mouth despite his wish to keep silent:

\- I love her, your serene highness. 

The Evenstar seemed to take offence at the revelation.

\- Do you? How is that love, _ser? _Forcing yourself on my daughter, not taking in consideration her shame, her lost honour. Where is my daughter now, Lannister? Where are you hiding her?

\- I’ve never forced myself on her, your Highness. I would never… I could never… My prince, I respect you immensely. I assure you I would never hurt her. I wish but to protect her.

\- You’ve only fooled her with your sweet lies, then? You took advantage of her maidenly ways to coax her into bedding you like you would do to a serving wench, huh? Only to pick her up before her time and leave her heartbroken and ashamed… She’s barely a woman, Ser Jaime, she’s not used to the ruses of men like you. Tywin, where’s my daughter? I need to speak with her. 

Jaime felt ashamed even further. Not ashamed of loving her, of knowing her body, little by little, in the last feels moths and neither of finally claiming her maidenhood in that fateful night a few days ago. He could have waited, he chastised himself for not proposing earlier, making her his with the blessings of gods and men. It didn’t matter now.

\- She’s at the Rosby castle, Selwyn. I’ve seen her yesterday. See, your daughter is a timid girl and we’ve decided that it was in her best interest to have a few days of calm in the country until this… _imbroglio _is solved. One of prince Oberyn’s daughters keep her company. Selwyn, she’s rather enamoured of Jaime. I am very fond of your girl and I wouldn’t ask you to bless this union if I didn’t have her agreement. We’re old men, Selwyn, but we’ve also been young and fool. I agree that the present situation is not ideal, but it would honour me greatly to have our dear Brienne as my daughter. 

_No, father, the prince is right. I should be ashamed. I did leave her alone, wondering what would happen next._ The blinding urgency of their passion deprived Jaime of his rationality. They were found in _delicate _circumstances and if not by Tyrion’s efforts to avoid rumours to spread, Brienne’s honour would be besmirched. That night he did leave her alone after she fell asleep, still sore and confused. They met before he left Rosby the next day: her eyes were filled with doubt as he swore on his honour to restore her own. _No, my lady, you need not be ashamed. I’ll make it right, don’t worry, don’t worry. _They haven't seen each other since and he daydreamed of her azure eyes, her expression confused and hopeful, as he whispered his goodbyes and caressed her unbraided hair: _I’ll make it right, I love you, I love you._

The Evenstar seemed to be lost in his thoughts for a moment. The prince was a tall, broad-shouldered man. Unlike the Lannisters, who had no problem displaying their wealth, Selwyn Tarth dressed relatively modestly for a man of his station. His garments were sober and he were no jewelry but a signet ring on his small finger and a blue garnet pinned on his cravat. He was known for his temperance and courage. Brienne and Tywin spared no compliments to praise the ruler of Tarth. The man was practically a saint, his only sin being his penchant for taking paramours. For all he knew, Selwyn was a loving father who feared his daughter would be hurt.

\- Very well then, ser. I shall speak to my daughter. I’ll be clear, Jaime. Don’t let my apparent calm or my age fool you. I still know how to use a pistol and swing a blade, so I hope for your sake that Brienne won’t tell me a grimmer tale than yours, ser. Until then, I don’t want you to come anywhere near her. Now leave, please. I need to have a word with your father.

Tywin nodded nonchalantly. The duke of Casterly Rock and prime minister was an absent father who rarely showed affection. He inspired fear and respect in both enemies and friends. In acts of pure adolescent defiance, Jaime has challenged his father in the past. He felt he could defy these men now, he didn’t need their permission. He and Brienne were grown, they didn’t need to explain. No judge or septon would deny to their union official, for now they were bound by love and flesh. 

He thought again of the farewell on the balcony of her bedroom, he remembered her long robe. I don’t know what to do, ser Jaime, I shouldn’t have... I, I... She still wore the delicate pearl drop earrings of the night before their parting. He pressed a chaste kiss on her brow. Shhhh, I’ll make it right. You will be my bride and I won’t allow anyone to question it.

Tyrant or not, his father was his greatest ally in this moment. Few men knew Selwyn like Tywin and his father would certainly convince the prince to accept the arrangement. Jaime swallowed his pride and left the room quietly. The two old men had much to discuss.


	2. Brienne I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your serene highness has news for his daughter. 
> 
> Duty arrived earlier than Brienne expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll turn back time, dear fellas. This chapter is set around 16 months before the prologue and we'll continue the story from here. If everything go as planned, I'll be able to wrap up the plot nicely. 
> 
> Thank you for the kind feedback on the prologue!

_Late morning, Brienne’s chambers in Evenfall Hall_

The Principality of Tarth was not the richest land of Westeros. Its economy was based mostly on trade and the export of marble, the island’s main product. The House of Tarth was not as wealthy as certain mainland houses, but their allegiance to the Targaryen dynasty during the conquest permitted them the honour of keeping their relative independence and titles without bloodshed nor humiliation. Its rulers were known for being just and peaceful: amidst the tempestuous waters of the Stormlands, Tarth was a haven of beauty and calm prosperity.

Brienne loved her land deeply. The dangerous and beautiful cliffs; the endless green of the valleys; the colourful stained glasses of her father’s hall; the warmth of the summer sun that lightened her flaxen hair and darkened her stubborn freckles. She would miss every one of those things when she left for the mainland.

She knew she’d have to leave sooner or later. Brienne loved Galladon, but he’d eventually be the ruler of the island. Brienne didn’t want to become a burden on her brother’s shoulders. Being almost of age, she should already have been presented at court. Her pleas and her father’s failed attempts at convincing her to at least try to get along with a suitor caused the ruling prince to postpone an official debut in the continent. She knew it was a matter of time before she had to face the scrutiny of King’s Landing, but, in the meantime, she tried to convince herself that maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible. After all, he would be there.

Lord Renly, the Marquis of Storm’s End was King Robert’s younger brother. They’ve met at a ball in Tarth when she was little more than a girl and already taller than most of the older boys. Wrapped up in lace way too delicate and cinched in a corset so tight it was hard to breathe, Brienne felt like a farce. But when she danced with Renly, she knew what it felt like being a princess, not only in title. That night she felt graceful like never before. His blue eyes and dark hair, his easy smile and gallant words were like those of a knight from the tales.

The summer after the ball, they’ve become closer during a hunting holiday in the Reach. They had even exchanged occasional letters. _My dearest Brienne, I cherish your friendship deeply. How is your father and brother faring? You should come to visit King’s Landing, I would be delighted to play the chaperone! _He would never kiss her, nor love her, not like a man loves a woman. _Or at least most men. _She tried not to think about his _preferences_. It was not her secret to share, but it comforted her knowing that even if she _were _indeed a beauty, he would never be interested.

She dismissed her erratic thoughts while tying her riding jacket and breeches. Her long, brittle, hair had been brushed and braided this morning with care by a particularly talented handmaid. _Your Highness, if you wish I could procure some hair at the wigmaker to weave into your braids. If only I had a little more volume, I could make a _bouffant _like they do in the capital. _The princess gently dismissed the younger girl, but she couldn’t help smiling at the _absurd_ notion of herself adhering to the extravagant hairstyles that reigned in the soirées of King’s Landing.

A subtle knock on the door pulled her out of her reverie once again.

“Milady, your father will be joining you for the ride,” the butler said. _Odd_, she thought. During the last few months, the prince had been involved in trading matters that occupied most of his time. “The horses are ready and your serene Highness awaits.”

She thanked him and headed to the stables.

* * *

They rode in silence for a while until he broke the silence: “Dear we must talk about your great-uncle.” Lord Gyles, Baron of Rosby, was Lady Mallory’s uncle. Brienne has met him a few times and she remembered little but his sickly appearance and the constant cough that would eventually claim his life. Lord Gyles was very wealthy, but unfortunate in his personal life, having had two fruitless marriages and a fragile health throughout since he was born.

“What happened to the ward, Father?”

“He’s been granted a sizeable inheritance. Besides, the young man never really considered having any chances of claiming the estate and title… You and your brother are the closest of kin.”

“I see.” Galladon was to wed Desmera Redwyne, a delicate lady from the Reach. “Well, the Redwynes must be very _content_.” The Redwynes were also islanders, but from a _golden_ island. They ruled the Arbor and therefore controlled much of the southwestern trade of Westeros with their great fleet. The young Prince of Tarth could not ask for a more auspicious match.

“Your brother won’t inherit the title, darling. You will.” “Rosby is yours by right. Your mother wished for the youngest children to inherit from her family. As you’re the only one… She meant to secure your future.” Brienne knew what he meant.

“I won’t take from my brother’s inheritance.”

“Nonsense, dear. Your brother will have a share, of course.” The Evenstar had a solemn, yet warm voice. “The land and title are yours. No need to discuss any further, your brother forfeits any claim he might have to Rosby. He wants you to have it, Brienne. As would have your mother”. 

A castle was a castle after all. She should be happy, for House Rosby was prosperous and enjoyed the good graces of the Iron Throne. But no castle was Evenfall Hall, no fire would keep her warm like her father’s hearth, not even the fire from her mother’s childhood home. She wondered what would be the conditions for such an arrangement. There were always _conditions. Septa Roelle is right, a highborn lady knows no love, but for her house; no joy, only duty. Nothing comes without a cost. _Her father broke the silence.

“Darling, I’ve made a huge mistake while raising you. I should have prepared you more, took you to the continent more often. I should have taught you more about commanding, teaching you how act in society, not only as a princess, but as a ruler.”

Brienne, in a whim, interrupted. “Father, I…”

“Hear me, Daughter. I failed you, time and time again. See, I’ve kept you more sheltered than I should have. See, maybe I wanted to keep you under my wing to sing for me in my old age. You see, sons don’t take care of their fathers … but I cannot keep you from seeing more of the world, Brienne. I wish nothing more than for you to have your own…”. A long pause followed. Selwyn knew and Brienne also knew they stood on shaky ground. “I want you to be happy, dear. Life is … _different _for women. My name will only protect you so far, you need to make a name for yourself, to be what you are _meant _to be.”

Brienne wanted to embrace him. Tell him it wasn’t his fault that a fever took Count Caron’s son. She remembered the boy loved to sing and shoot arrows, they even went swimming together. He had spent a few weeks in Tarth with his father. Not long after the visit, the _damned _affliction decimated three quarters of the Nightsong Manor, masters and servants alike. It wasn’t the first time that she felt _grief_. It wouldn’t be the last either. _Father, it is not your fault I became orphaned and widowed before I flowered…_

_“_I am your daughter; isn’t that enough?” A dark thought passed through her mind and before she knew, it slipped from her lips. “Unless… Have I become a _nuisance_ somehow?” She barely recognized her bitter tone.

“Do not ever say that again, Brienne.” He slowed further the pace. “You are not the heiress, but you will always have a place here. The gods wanted you to be the one to continue your mother’s family legacy, I just want you to fulfill your destiny. I want you to be prepared.”

“And how exactly should I achieve that?”

“Well, dear, you’ll learn from the very best. Your _godsfather_, the Duke of Casterly Rock, has agreed to ward you in King’s Landing.” He whistled and steered the horse, who began to gallop suddenly.

Time stood still for a while. She woke up from her stupor and followed her father to Evenfall Hall. She’d be_ gently_ _expelled _from her nest sooner than she expected. The news tasted bitter in her mouth and fear clawed her heart with its sharp, cold talons. The wind blew so fast against her face that it dried her tears almost immediately. It was better this way. This way she could pretend they were not there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might have noticed that I've changed the formatting a little bit. I let the dashes go and I'll be using quotation marks for the dialogue from now on because I think is more pleasant to the eye and easier to read. I'm trying to find my style and be a better writer, so please be patient. 
> 
> Next chapter we'll get to see King's Landing! 
> 
> Once again, I'm a rookie and all feedback is appreciated ❤️


End file.
